


Candyman

by Sio_99



Series: Stories that I may continue, or may never finish, read at your own risk [2]
Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: Dark!Blake, Gen, Pre-Movie, Serial Killer!Blake
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 16:43:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2780315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sio_99/pseuds/Sio_99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We are the sum of our experiences. These are John Blake's experiences, and they make him what he is...a serial killer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty dark. It also may not be continued, It's been sitting on my hard drive collecting metaphorical dust for the last year. I figured I'd share it and maybe find the inspiration to finish it. If I do continue then it may become slash, just a heads up but I will warn you before any slash actually occurs. 
> 
> Trigger warning: Pedophile tries to lure child into car with candy, he does not succeed.

Part One

Robin John Blake had always been unusually perceptive, even as a child. He’d known in the wreck of what used to be his mother’s car; that they were going to die. He could hear the metal settling all around him and the drip, drip, drip sound of a broken fuel line. Robin new that soon the cabin of the car would fill with smoke and fire. His mother must not have, because even suspended in the awkward upside down position they were in she kept telling him that they would be all right. Robin knew that she was lying he could see the paleness creep into the skin of her face even though her face should be turning red as all the blood rushed to her head. 

“We’ll be okay sweetie. Don’t be afraid.” She’d repeated those words over and over like a mantra until they were all that rung in Robin’s ears. So loud were those words that it wasn’t until he was pulled from the car through the window that he realized help had arrived. 

“MOMMY!” He’d screamed as the car finally caught fire. Robin could feel the heat on his skin and smell burning flesh as the man who had saved him carried him further and further from the car. He hadn’t heard any screaming but his own. Had his mother died before the fire, or was the fire roaring too loudly for anything else to be heard? That didn’t stop him form screaming until is mouth tasted of iron. 

Robin had been in shock, but he still remembered the police officer that had sat with him as the paramedics and checked him over. The name on the uniform had given Robin the name Hasler, the man’s shining gold ring told Robin that the man was relatively newly married. The stain high up on the man’s uniformed shoulder, shouted that there was a new baby in the Hasler household. Robin new that the man smiled more than he frowned; that the man’s father and perhaps grandfather had both been cops. Two and a half years later during his first month in the boy’s home, he found a story about an officer Hasler who had been killed due to friendly fire. Robin had wonder about the man’s wife and baby, what would they do now?

The next memory Robin has after the accident is of being introduced to his father in the brightly colored office of a social worker. He must have been in emergency foster care until they could find his father, but he couldn’t remember their faces or names. He remembered his father though, that would be hard to forget. The man had called him John even after the social worker had introduced him as Robin. But that was find with John, Robin died in the car with his mom.


	2. Part Two

Part Two

John’s life followed a predictable pattern after that, staying out of his father’s way, and getting punished when he didn’t manage to do so. His father was a drinker and gambler. When sober the man had little to do with him, but when drunken John became to cause of all the man’s problems. If that wasn’t enough the man had friends with a taste for young boys. Luckily for John he wasn’t to the man’s taste; but John could see how the man’s nephew shied away from any contact with the man. John began to see that adults were not good at protecting children. 

When John’s father started to get physically as well as verbally abusive John called the children’s help line; which in turn encouraged him to call social services. Other than the beating he received from his father’s fists after the first and only visit nothing changed. John knew that he probably would not survive his father; at the very most he would be a broken person. Therefore in order to survive he had to get rid of his father. The opportunity came after they had to flee their rat-invested apartment to an even grubbier place because of his father’s mounting debts to the wrong kind of people. 

John remembers that night vividly. They had been walking down the street. There were two rather large thugs following them. It took a lot longer for his father to realize what was happening. When he did, he began to drag John down the street by his arm, uncaring of who they collided with. Once John’s father thought he had lost the men in the crowd he ducked into an alleyway dragging his son with him. 

John watched as his father brought his finger to his lips in a demand for silence. Just then a thought popped into John’s head, he could get rid of his father. A sound, any sound at the right moment would alert those men, who could be heard getting closer to the alleyway angrily blaming each other for the lose of their target. John looked down at his feet, and around the alley, their was a dumpster not to far off which could provide him with a hiding place. At his feet where several empty beer bottles, one good kick would send them flying into a mess of noise. John inched away from his preoccupied father so that he would be out of the man’s grasp once he made his move. Just like that John kicked the bottles and ran for the dumpster as his father made a grab for him while making an angry hissing sound. 

“You hear that Ellis?” asked a gruff voice.

“Came from over there.” Was the other man’s answer. Within seconds the two men had found John’s father. Voices were raised in anger.

“You owe Tony a lot of money Alfie, but Tony’s an understanding guy, you pay up now and I don’t have to shoot you.” Said Ellis with a wide grin.

“You know I don’t have that kind of money!” Cried John’s father in complete desperation.

“Now you see, that’s too bad.” Said the other man. “But Tony’s instructions were clear, he don’t like people backing outta their debts, an example has ta be made.” With that last rejoinder Ellis pulled out his gun and shot Alfie in the chest. Laughing the two men left the alley joking with each other.

Throughout it all John stayed quiet watching carefully from his hiding place. Once the men had left he emerged and walked closer to his father stopping just outside of his reach.

“John, s-son, get help” John’s father gasped. John stood there watching silently studying how differently his father looked as he died to what his mom had looked like. The man was coughing up blood now; he seemed to have finally realized that John wasn’t going to get him any help. By then it was to late for Alfie to call out much louder than a whisper, though he did try, but his lungs were filling with blood and it was hard to speak through the bubbles. All the while John stared at his father committing this scene to memory. John didn’t find any pleasure from his father’s suffering, only a sense of relief that he no longer had to endure his father’s company. After several more minutes and many muffled curses Alfie’s body finally laid silent, his chest no longer raising and falling. John waited several more minutes before approaching the body, when he was sure that his father wasn’t faking his death he moved to kneel next to the body. He noticed the pool of blood getting closer to his knees but he didn’t move. The blood was warm but rapidly cooling against his skin. He threw himself forward on to his father chest unmindful of the blood getting on his clothes. Once he was sure that it looked like he tried to help his father, he got up and left the alley stopping the first patrol officer that he found and begging for help.


	3. Part Three

Part Three

John liked the boy’s home. It felt like he had family for the first time in ages. Within a few months of being there John got the reputation of someone who protected the younger kids. Pretty soon even the older children were coming to John to mediate their problems. As John grew up he took to protecting those in the neighborhood that needed protecting. John wasn’t a fool he new that he could not protect all of the cities children, but he did what he could. 

It was when John was fourteen that he took his first human life with his own hands. He’d seen a car circling around the playground that he brought the younger boys to after mass on Sundays. The car was expensive looking with dark tinted windows. John observed as the man rolled down the window to try and entice one of the children into the car with a handful of candy. John felt rage bubble up from his gut like a fire. How dare a predator prey on one of his children? John called all the children to him. He felt relief as his charge that was in danger come running at the sound of his voice. John watched in satisfaction as his troops arranged themselves. He marched them home, while mentally formulating a plan to get rid of this new danger. 

It was the next Sunday that John put his plan into action. He enlisted one of the other teens to take the younger ones to a different park while he went to the usual one. Sure enough the man showed up, he looked about to drive away when he spotted John. He put the window down and beckoned John over with a smile. John returned the smile with his own and approached the car.

“Hi there! I seem to be lost do could you give me some directions?” asked the man.

“Sure, where are you headed?” asked John.

“I was headed to the hospital to visit my wife but I got turned around.”  
“No problem, go back in that direction 4 blocks then turn right and look-” John began is explanation expecting to be interrupted. He was not disappointed. 

“Sorry I’m not so good with directions, do you think you could hop in and navigate for me?” The man asked with a winsome smile. “I’d be happy to give you a ride back.”

“Sure.” Said John he walked around the car and opened the door once he had pulled the sleeve of his hoodie over his hand so he didn’t leave fingerprints. He got in and dutifully started giving directions, which the man began to follow. It didn’t take long before the man deviated from the directions and John found himself in an isolated location. Perfect for what was about to come. The man stopped and parked the car.

“Where are we?” asked John putting some mild confusion into his voice.

“That’s not important.” Replied the man. “How would you like to make some money son?”

“Doing what?”

“Well, a man can get lonely when his wife is in hospital and I want a little company.”

“Company?” 

“Yeah that’s right.”

“Okay, what would you like to do?” 

“I’m glad you asked son.” Said the man as he reached into the back of the car, pulling out two bottles of Coors light. “I thought we could have some cold ones and listen to the football game on the radio.”

John did he’s best to sound like any other teenager at the prospect of free beer. “Awesome!” 

“I thought you might think so.” The man opened both bottles. John noticed that one of the bottles opened without a hiss. Meaning that one had been opened before and doctored. 

The man handed one bottle over and turned on the radio. John pretended to drink. Soon he started to act like he was spacing out and becoming relaxed. He dropped the bottle in between the door and the seat so the man couldn’t tell that he hadn’t actually taken a sip.   
The man turned the radio off and put his own beer down then turned to John who was pretending to be dazed. 

The man opened his own pants and pulled down his underwear to expose himself. While he was doing this John took out the needle he hand been hiding and popped the cap off. Before the man moved to undress John, John was on him injecting him with the needle.

The man curse and reared back in surprise before becoming furious. He elbowed John in the face, making John’s vision fuzzy. Luckily John had chosen a fast acting drug that brought on the effects of a heart attack in large doses. He’d had to raid the medicine cabinet of a recently deceased neighbor for this drug. The man clutched his chest and panted in panic. 

John finally managed to clear his vision as the man was taking his last breaths staring at John with wide eyes. John stared back watching the man die; feeling only relief. 

John set about tidying up the scene as the man’s body slowly cooled. John fished out the beer from between the seat. He opened the car door and set it down out of the way so he wouldn’t tip it over. Then he retrieved the needle, and its cap, carefully putting the cap back on and putting it in the pocket of his hoodie. He then picked up one of the bottle caps and put it in his pocket. Once that was done he made sure that any fingerprints he might have left where wiped away. Before exiting the car, John carefully turned the radio back on. 

He shut the car door, picked up the bottle and started to walk away. He took the long way home; no one was expecting him for several hours yet. As he walked home he got rid of the evidence first he poured out the liquid in the bottle and then a couple blocks later he recycled the bottle after wiping it down. The needle came next. John almost kept the cap as a souvenir but he decided that he didn’t want any connection left to the scene of the crime, so the cap went into the next garbage can. 

For the next few days he checked the TV, radio and newspapers. There was nothing in the news about the murder. Later he found the obituary of the man that claimed his death had been a sudden heart attack.


	4. Part Four

Part Four

He’d made it. He was finally a cop. Of course he was a cop partly by necessity, he had to know if they were on to him. At first he had made a great effort to hide his murders, to make them appear natural or accidental. He was very good at it. But after a while he could see that another monster replaced the one he got rid of. So he’d started to leave a calling card. He left his victims with a mouthful of candy, in remembrance of his first murder. The reporter’s had dubbed him The Candyman. The police where stumped by the victimology; it was all over the place. Young, old, man, women, rich, poor, all that seemed to tie the victims together was a mouthful of candy. Eventually a savvy reporter had figured out the connection; that all the victims had in someway been abusive to children or those that could not defend themselves. Still the name stuck, The Candyman. 

Eventually the neighborhood became safer, and those who had less than innocent thoughts kept them to themselves. 

Everything was going so well until John learned of the death of one of the boys from the Home. He felt white-hot rage roll through his body. What had he been doing in the sewer? The boy’s brother told him it had been to find work after he’d aged out of the home. That was when John had found out that Wayne enterprises had pulled its support from the Boy’s home. In the end John was angry with himself as well as with Wayne. He had cast his net to wide and forgotten his family in the effort to keep others safe. He was also with Wayne who’s company had created the situation which lead to the lose of life. 

It was becoming clear the Wayne might be his next target, which would be a shame, killing the batman. 

Fortunately for Wayne a visit from John seemed to wake him from his dazed state. Of course before anything could be down for the Boys Home the League of Shadows begun their quest to destroy Gotham.

**Author's Note:**

> Spot an error, tell me, I will fix it. :)


End file.
